


Poetry in Motion

by nerdypipsqueak



Series: Fictober 2020 [8]
Category: A Dangerous Man: Lawrence After Arabia (1990), Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
Genre: Alternate History, Erotic Poetry, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Middle Aged Men In Love, Museums, Sumerian gods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27221230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdypipsqueak/pseuds/nerdypipsqueak
Summary: Fictober prompt: “will you look at this?”Set in the My Soul and Yours universe. Ned gives Feisal a little pre-opening tour of the Baghdad Museum.
Relationships: Faisal bin Hussein bin Ali al-Hashemi/T. E. Lawrence
Series: Fictober 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970629
Kudos: 12





	Poetry in Motion

"...as you can see, this entire floor is dedicated to the history of the region. Now, that staircase leads to the Egyptian Room and that one to the Greeks and Romans." Ned's hands glide through the air, pointing out everything he's referring to. Feisal can't take his eyes off those hands, long-fingered, elegant not despite but because of their imperfections: tiny scars left by knives, explosives and ancient artefacts, the gnarled wrist, broken and set too late to ever heal properly. Those hands are like an open book.

"Now that room over there is for temporary exhibitions and events. That's where we will have the opening ball next week... Excuse me, are you listening?" Ned pauses, caught somewhere between amusement and annoyance.

"Of course I am listening. What's behind that door?" Feisal points to a large wooden door concealed by the stairs leading up to the Egyptian Room.

"That one leads to what I've come to call the Catacombs. That's where we store everything that did not go on display. Would you like to have a look?"

Feisal nods. He is genuinely curious about the Catacombs, about all the museum's goings on and not just as king and co-founder. He likes to know how things work and Ned happens to be an excellent teacher.

The basement certainly does not match the name Ned had given it. It's well lit, the corridors vast and clean, smooth-looking. Not unlike a hospital, Feisal thinks, running his fingers along the wall. The roughness of it surprises him, it doesn't quite fit.

"To the left we have the Restoration Department." Ned gestures towards a door further down the corridor. "All acquisitions go through there to be inspected, cleaned and, if needs be, mended. We have, in fact the entire region has, a looting problem, which means many of our treasures arrive here in poor condition. I have some ideas for new legislation, if I write them down will you have a look at them?"

"Of course I will. Are we alone here?"

"Yes, I sent everyone home. I need them well rested for tomorrow, for when we start arranging the large exhibits. Apart from us, the night watchmen and your bodyguards there is no one else in the building. Come, let me show you the storage room."

This time the name fits the place exactly. The storage room is a virtual labyrinth of shelves, crates and display cases. In between the shelves are work benches and tool cases, brand new, waiting to be used by scholars and restoration workers.

"I see that you're using the budget wisely." Feisal remarks. Ned blushes at that and drops his gaze.

"I will provide you with a full financial report after the opening. Now, as I am sure you can see, this is where we keep everything that is not part of the exhibition. Items that are potentially fake, items that are too delicate or too damaged to be permanently displayed. Items that would cause... moral outrage."

"Moral outrage? How so?"

"Let me show you." Ned takes Feisal by the hand and guides him towards one of the display cases, one filled with an array of clay tablets. Some are in pieces, every single one is covered in marks: lines and notches. Carefully, he opens the case and picks up one of the tablets.

"This is a Sumerian poem called The Courtship of Inanna and Dumuzi."

"An explicit poem?" Feisal cocks an amused eyebrow.

"I believe so. I've never read it in its entirety."

"You can read this?"

"I'm not as fluent as I used to be but yes, I can."

"Oh? You never told me."

"I never needed to use that particular ability during the War."

"Fair enough." Feisal raises a hand, lets it hover above the tablet, then places a finger over a line in the middle. "What does this say?"

"Let me have a look." Ned turns the tablet around. He reads and rereads in silence, brow furrowed. All of a sudden he turns bright red, a hand flies up to his mouth. "Oh my! It... it says..."

"Yes?"

Ned takes a deep breath. His tongue flicks over his upper lip.

"Then plow my vulva, man of my heart." He says slowly. "Plow my vulva."

This is certainly not what Feisal had expected, far from it. It is beyond explicit and somehow Ned's low voice makes it sound even filthier than it already is. He laughs nervously.

"Well, I'm glad you're amused." Ned mutters as he puts the tablet back in its case. When he turns around Feisal wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him close and kisses him, thoroughly and absolutely not chastely.

"Shall we go home?" Ned whispers. "Or would you like to finish your tour?"

The decision is easy.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the poem Ned was quoting: https://web.ics.purdue.edu/~kdickson/inanna.html  
> It is rather explicit.


End file.
